


berry glen.

by yu3s



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Diamond & Pearl & Platinum | Pokemon Diamond Pearl Platinum Versions
Genre: Adventure, Canon Divergence - Co-Existence, Childhood Friends, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Mild Disassociation & The Occasional Breakdown, Original Character(s), POV Second Person, Second Chances, Team Galactic: And I Would Have Gotten Away With It Too If It Weren't For You Meddling Kids!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:40:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27574625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yu3s/pseuds/yu3s
Summary: the wind rustles through greenery, cold and bracing. snowflakes fall from your eyelashes and the sun trips while running outside the set course. the rule of three snaps into place. glen dreams. barry laughs. lucas holds. berries ripen overnight. new teeth grow where there are no space for them.
Relationships: ??? | ??? & Jun | Barry & Kouki | Lucas
Kudos: 2





	1. you do not have to be good

**Author's Note:**

> i have been having an absolutely hideous few weeks. i booted up pokemon platinum because my hacked copy of soulsilver was not working. here we are now. i am writing as i play so that's the format.

you do not have to be good

July 12.

it's hot. the sun 

turns me into red 

hurt and b into 

golden scars. 

i love the star that 

warms us both

even if it burns.

icarus with his 

bright wings burned

too, didn't he?

did he hate the sun after?

~~b says: let's ask the blue~~

~~that heard him last~~

~~sky and water.~~

Someone calls your name.

The pen jolts and a black line cuts across your words. 

Outside the window a baby starly shrieks at the top of its lungs and the sun creeps across the polished wood floors, pouring liquid light into the cracks. The wind sighs and trails its soft touch across the round green leaves and closed petals of little plants and flowers still sleeping on the windowsill. 

Your shoulders twitch a little, the pain of rawst-aloe treated sunburn making itself present. It's a strange, familiar pain that lingers on your cheeks and nose and dips down to your shoulders, deep red all the way to where wings would be on your back if you could grow them.

"[G̶͍̻̠̦͌̌̉͊̏͊̑l̵̡͍͚̭̤̔̂́͘͝ȅ̸̢̗͚̣͜͜n̶̛̺̦͙͔̥̎̈̌̑͠!̶̨̳̞̎̆ͅ]" 

You blink away the static fuzzing up your vision. The starly shrieks again, once. Then it goes quiet. 

Everything is quiet and still in a way that has weight. That's normal at this time of day. Not much sounds in the first delicate moments of dawn when time is gossamer thin and things are coming back to life, but. Someone has called your name. And in your head something is making a noise you've never heard before, a grinding, shattering noise. A murmur of many voices strung together and dripping shadow. A sound with ripping teeth. 

It's normal to feel cold this time of day. Now when the sun is only a dream of itself, pale and cool to the touch like water.

It's normal to shiver and feel all your hurts shudder through you, as if blooming to life all at once. 

You close your eyes tight until tiny sparks burst to life and die away and turn black-red. Cracked light collects in the dark behind your eyelids. Then you open your eyes again, blinking away little stars, and listen still and quiet until the moment stutters and fades away and the starly start to sing. 

Someone calls your name in a long drawn-out whine and then starts thumping up your stairs. 

The sudden relief is sweet and cool in your veins and you get to your feet to put away your notepad and pen just as the door bursts open.

The sun rushes into your room all brightness and noise and then rushes you off your feet and you feel warm again.

Your sunburns still hurt but it's worth it.

"Glen!"

  * • ● • ☆ • ● • ● 



Barry swings your linked arms high as he pulls you forward, his hand hot in yours. Sun-warmed and twitching with energy he lets go, leaps forward several steps and comes running back with an exaggerated pout and laughter spilling from his mouth to pull you forward with him.

"Come on, come on, come on! Lake Verity is _calling_ for us! Pick up the pace or I'll fine you double!"

You're not moving _fast_ enough, he complains for the hundredth time and fines you for it again with a grin on his face. You trundle after him with measured steps and as always he waits for you to catch up. There is something strawberry candy-like about this whole day, something sweet and unexpected, something you can eat slowly and hear Barry bite into with a crunch. Something interesting.

You feel like you are waiting. You blink away shadows as the sun rises steadily higher, shake away static popping in your ears. Turning your head to the side you see the top of his ear turning pink in the sun, freckles scattered across the back of his neck and watch; a golden curl bounces with every step. Your focus is caught and you fade away.

But Barry is calling your name so you come back to listen.

"Glen! So you know how Sandgem Town is right next door?" he chirps. "I heard someone say the beach there has real gems in it, all crushed up into dust!"

Barry's words are tripping off his tongue today like glittering pebbles pushed forward by a roaring river, bright blue, moving so fast the waves are foaming white. You collect them carefully, folding them into your pockets. Your words are wisp and fluttering fingers tapping at his wrist or squeezing his hand when you need to rest and Barry tilts his head towards you and listens close, saving them all somewhere behind the gleam of his eyes like eggshell treasures.

Usually, the two of you would take the high path to the silver lake and climb up the ledge. Brambles would scratch up your arms while you put back the silk-twig nests that fell from trees on windy days and Barry would run up the incline with a loud cheer and then roll back down, sending flocks of starly whirling up into the sky and getting grass and flowers all tangled up in his hair. 

Today, his eyes are bright with something new to try. 

Finally here is the moment; a ripe berry you can pop into your mouth and savor, something about to burst into flavor and make you both feel full and warm and alive.

The sun shivers against your skin and melts into his and even though it hurts you are both children with oddly sharp teeth and Barry is sunwild and you are the polished lantern that holds his light. The moment skips back, skips forward, a stone glancing against the mirror-glass water of a silver lake three times without breaking it and then oh.

Oh the world _spins_.

  * • ● • ☆ • ● • ● 



Again now, one more time.

"Oh, hey there Glen. Barry's gone on ahead. I bet he's waiting for you!"

A solemn nod and measured footsteps. 

Hand already outstretched as Barry rushes over to hold on to it tight and swing high as he tugs forward with a smile. What? Of course he was waiting! But there's still going to be a fine to pay for you know, calculated down to the second this time!

Past the ledge and the high path, down to the main road and its patches of nevermelting snow and its stubborn flowers. The tall grass. Dark green and rustling in the wind. It sounds like it's whispering doesn't it? Well never mind all that. Guess what? If we just keep moving, the wild pokemon won't catch up to us! We'll get to the lab in no time.

You want to see the beach? Yeah, I thought so! Okay, let's do that after! Ready?

**_Stop!_ **

The moment burns with light. The two that come by are limned with something that shines in corners of vision. The boy is wide-eyed with a mouth that likes to smile twitching up nervously even now. He is uncertain. The man is severe, his frown stern and eyes flinty but there is a softness to him still, a gentleness that lives in his open hands.

He says, you must love pokemon very much to try something like this. He says, here. Take this life into your hands and learn to love it. It will love you back. Let it run next to you, let it rise high and make you something new. He opens a suitcase and says, here. 

He says, choose.

A sound rings through time like a big, beautiful bell.

  * • ● • ☆ • ● • ● 



"Here," says Professor Rowan, in his rough rumbling voice. "Pick from one of these two pokemon."

"You can choose first," says Barry, with a smile that turns his eyes molten. He is burning but the heat is comforting and the moment is just as sweet as you knew it would be. His teeth flash in the light and you realize he knew it too.

The pokeballs are smooth under your steady hands; one nudges itself forward to greet you and the air turns warm. You tap it hello and it bounces. You can already see them together, fitting like puzzle pieces to make a dazzling image. The other pokeball waits for you, patient.

You pick it up and cradle it in your palm and step back to make room for Barry who reaches past you with trembling hands to pick up the other one. You can feel the moment he realizes, hear the puzzle click into place. 

He turns to you with a smile so wide it must hurt his cheeks and the professor laughs warmly and says, "Well then now, let's see your companions."

The boy beside him looks on with a brightness in his eyes and a smile of his own, no longer uncertain.

Click, go the buttons. Flash, goes the light.

 _Hello, hello, hello_ says your heart.

Dark eyes peer up at you so you crouch down to make it easier. Chatter rises from your side and tangible warmth like a moving candle. But in front of you is quiet and someone butting up against your open palm, saying _hi_. 

_Hello, hi, hello_.

_You will love me and I will love you back and I will walk next to you and rise high and turn us both into something new._

_Hello Glen._

"Would you like to give your pokemon a nickname?" says the Professor.

_Hello Berry._

_Let us bloom together, you and I._

By your side, Chimchar and Barry whisper together and laugh and look up at the professor with similar eyes. 

"We're gonna think about it some more!" says Barry. 

"Of course," says Professor Rowan. "You have all the time in the world."

Berry falls into your lap with a sigh and you pick him up, the scent of growing things filling your lungs and chest with something that feels like green buds coming through the earth.

"His name is Berry," you whisper and Barry hears because he's always listening and grins at you both, big and bright. 

"After me!" he cheers, knowing. "Yeah, that's awesome!"

"Wait, really?" says the boy.

You and Berry shake your heads slow and Barry laughs and says, "His name's Berry and I'm Barry! We're going to be great friends, you know?"

"Oh," hums the Professor, thoughtful and then smiles back, a soft weathered smile. 

"Yes," he whispers to himself. "Yes, I can certainly see that."

  * • ● • ☆ • ● • ●



You walk through the tall grass with Barry right behind you instead of at your side, walking with one hand fisted tight into the back of your clothes like he used to when you were small kids. The pokeballs are in each of your hands. Lake Verity is a clear glass blue with clouds of white fog rolling from the waters. It is quiet and peaceful and nothing dares to make a sound.

Beside you, you can see Barry's chest rise and fall to the same rhythm as yours and then he fills his lungs with air and you brace yourself still. The glass surface of the silver lake ripples. Something has heard your names.

"Come on." says Barry, in a low murmur now that he's finished speaking all of his heart's words. "Let's go home!"

You go together and the sun sparkles in the sky, a faraway star and it is hot and it hurts in the way things do sometimes when they're changing.

The air smells like opening flowers and wild growth and rawst-aloe and strawberries and sunlight. It's home and you and Barry and the wind rushing past as you run together towards something that will unmake you all and turn you into something new.

At the back of your mind something shivers to life and at the bottom of your heart lies fear, but you know things can grow despite that. You know you have all the time in the world and beyond to blossom into being.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter titles for arc one are from mary oliver's wild geese. anything in the main text is mine.


	2. you do not have to walk on your knees

you do not have to walk on your knees

Nov 14.

The weather is perfect.

I'll be setting out today.

It’s fine, we’re going to be fine. 

Everything will turn out okay.

It's nighttime when you finally go, tip-toeing out of the house with Berry right behind you. 

You both take in a deep breath of cool air as you come outside and sigh out clouds. You bend down to tuck Berry under your arm the way he likes and carry him forward that way. He nips playfully at the ends of your scarf and the clumsy handiwork that runs soft green along its sides.

Step by careful step, keeping to the edges of buildings and closer to the trees where the shadows are long and deep, you make your way out of town. Twinleaf Town sleeps unaware behind you, all its lights turned off except for a lone street-lamp that flickers the same shade of light as the hidden moon. That one is always shining.

There is a feeling in your chest, a huge yawning emotion that threatens to swallow you up and leave nothing behind. But beyond that there is a package laying snug in your bag under layers of clothing, entrusted to you by soft hands and smile-wrinkled eyes and you can feel its weight. There is a pokemon warm and trusting in your arms, snoozing while you pick your way carefully through the tall grass and skirt across piles of snow. There is the clean night air, cold and starry. 

You are going to be just fine, you know. You imagine a golden thread coming out of your chest and unspooling far ahead of you, connected to a back that you must catch up to. It is pulled taut now because you’re so far apart, thin like spider silk as it catches the low light.

But it will never disappear.

Even now it tugs you further and forward, promising you home when you get there, promising you unclipped wings and the sun shining high in the sky and never being lost again.

The wind whips through your hair and scrapes across your skin and you smile because it doesn’t hurt. You’re a little late of course but this kind of cold is your element so you walk forward sure and steady, counting every step. The promise of snow sparkles on your tongue. 

_How lucky_ , you whisper to yourself. Berry makes a low noise of inquiry and you wrap him up tighter in your arms. _It's going to snow here soon._

In an hour or so the clouds will shake themselves awake and send down snowflakes floating in the breeze to pile against the ground in layers of pure, blinding white. It’s the perfect thing to cover up your tracks.

Your shoulders go loose.

You stop watching your back.

Berry blinks himself awake and nudges at your side to be let down.

You bend to place him on the ground and get back up, humming as he begins to walk beside you. The flare of alarm from sharp eyes staring at your backs comes too late. There is a noise that comes from outside of you, a sound like something unsheathed. Berry jolts once in the corner of your vision and tips over to the side. You fall with him, arms outstretched even as you hit the ground with a nauseating jolt.

It hurts.

With blood oozing from your knees, bruised and frightened and in pain, you don’t hesitate to lurch forward to catch him. You cry out his name. 

_Berry!_ you call. _Berry!_ ****

Buzzing starts up in your head and stuffs up your skull with sudden noise loud enough to blur your vision into smears of faint color. You begin to shake.

Berry always answers when you speak. He is always listening. Always.

 _Drip, drip, drip_ says the darkness filling your palms, overflowing. Berry doesn’t say anything.

The buzzing in your head reaches fever pitch and harmonizes with the scream that rips itself from your chest and claws your throat to shreds. It dies on your tongue as most things do and red burbles from your lips, an unwelcome heat raging through you. 

Footsteps are coming closer and you are gasping until you can no longer breathe. You wrench your fingers through your hair until it hurts and put your forehead to Berry’s _carefully_ so the soft sprout that he is so proud only brushes against your face, so you don’t hurt _him_ and you _snarl_.

The footsteps stutter. Your teeth begin to ache. The buzzing grows knives and rips and tears and shreds through what it should never have been able to touch, wild and hungry and victorious. Unnatural quiet covers the world and the buzzing in your head is savage and exultant, ringing viciously until it grows sated.

It silences itself.

**…**

[G̶͍̻̠̦͌̌̉͊̏͊̑l̵̡͍͚̭̤̔̂́͘͝ȅ̸̢̗͚̣͜͜n̶̛̺̦͙͔̥̎̈̌̑͠.]

It’s nighttime.

The weather is perfect outside.

You breathe and breathe and breathe, chest shuddering with phantom pain, an ache that pulses in your ribs and spreads out in splinters and cracks. But it’s fine. It’s fine because Berry breathes with you.

You tiptoe out of the house with glass lodged in your throat. You stand outside of Twinleaf Town, the wretched place, with Berry held under your arm, sighing softly as he dreams his hazy dreams. Tremors go through the hand that holds him close.

In an hour it will snow.

You press yourself tight against the scratchy bulk of a large spruce and breathe in the scent of pine needles and cold things, things that will never melt. The wind whips through the trees and curls around you and Berry sneezes himself awake. You hold him tight in your trembling arms.

He pushes himself up to tuck his head under your chin and your eyes water at once, warm tears slipping down the side of your face. His sprout tickles your nose as he startles and looks up at you with wide eyes. You hush him without breathing and he says nothing but leans into you again and listens. Berry always listens.

There is only quiet in your head now but you can hear the echo of emptiness anyways. Silence is also a sound.

The footsteps pass you by.

The wind whispers.

You follow close behind and the darkness burbles and the scream rises and you say a name and all three die on your tongue. As most things do.

The snow begins to fall. 

You pick your way carefully across the tall grass and the sky opens up. In moments, blinding white blankets what you have left behind. There is nothing left.

  * • ● • ☆ • ● • ●



Sandgem’s beach is more beautiful than you ever imagined.

Berry sways forward on unsteady feet because he spent the whole trip there curled up against your chest listening to your heartbeat until it slowed down and evened out. Until you were both certain of each other’s safety once more. 

Now he dips his face in the glittering waters and rears back at the bracing cold. He makes a startled noise that turns into a chirring laugh and runs over to you immediately, catching the corner of your jacket in his mouth and tugging until you follow.

You both sit at the edge of the colorful sands and listen to the waves crash against the beach. The water numbs your hands when you reach out to touch it but it feels good. It feels clean. Berry dances around you, his splashing the cheerful music that accompanies him. When he has finally had his fill of playing, you dust the sand from both of your bodies and let the lights guide you back to the town proper.

From there you find the lab still open and knock before letting yourself in. The brightness inside has you and Berry blinking away stars and wobbling on your feet just a little. Professor Rowan catches sight of you both and his eyes grow bright at once.

“Ah, Glen and Berry! It’s quite late but I am pleased to see you have found your way here nonetheless.”

The professor’s assistants seem confused as the professor ushers you inside and then leaves just as quickly but they rush about anyways, sitting you down with gentle hands and bringing you a towel and a hot drink. One of them has the same smile-prone mouth as the boy you saw in the summer but his hands flicker and jump in a way that is entirely different.

“Oh, hello hello. Welcome to the lab!” he gushes. “I’m one of the scientists helping the professor with his research. I’m sure you’ve met my son, Lucas?”

His eyes are alight with inquiry, his head tilted to the side like a curious bird. You nod slow and a lovely smile overtakes his face as he beams at you.

“Oh, wonderful, wonderful! My Lucas also helps the professor with his work, mostly through gathering new data and being a fresh pair of eyes on the newer projects.” He taps at his glasses and chuckles, gathering the now wet towel from your hands and replacing it with a blanket. “I’m sure he’s still at it even now! Did you see him outside?”

You _had_ seen him, just moments before, sitting on a bench under the gleaming street-lamps with his head bent over a thick notebook, completely absorbed with writing something on it. You had passed by him with quiet care, unwilling to disturb his focus. He hadn’t seen you.

“Well that’s alright,” he says amicably. “Now make sure to drink all your tea. It’s a little sour because the recipe calls for some aspear berries but it should warm you right up!”

 _I will_ , you tell him. _Thank you._

He leaves with a big smile and fluttering wave and is buried between the documents on a nearby desk in short order. The other assistant had gone back to her own work as soon as she had offered you the towel but she looks up now to give you a warm look. You nod to her in greeting and her lips curve up just the slightest bit. She turns her head back to a machine that sparks and glows oddly underneath her hands. You catch a staticy giggle as she taps at it and realize there’s a pokemon in there, gleefully playing tricks.

Professor Rowan returns soon after with a lightness in his step that you can just barely make out and gives his greetings to Berry first, looking him over with eyes that soften with pride and joy before turning those very same eyes onto you. Then he holds out a pokedex and folds it into your hands.

“You’ve done a wonderful job so far, young Glen. I have never doubted my choice to give you a pokemon but I see today that is not enough. I am proud _._ Proud to have set you on this journey and honored to be a part of it.”

Your eyes prickle with tears and Berry is by your side at once, nudging at your legs in alarm. 

_I’m happy_ , you tell him and he subsides but still insists you pick him up so you seat him in your lap while the professor looks on with quiet delight. 

The pokedex beeps as it starts up. 

Berry’s face appears on the monitor and words begin to scroll on screen while a serious-toned narrator reads them aloud.

**[The shell on its back is made of soil. On a very healthy TURTWIG, the shell should feel moist.]**

Berry twists around at once in an attempt to look at his shell but fails. He turns his eyes up at you with a pleading look. You tap at his shell to test and nod reassuringly; he’s healthy and his soil is perfect for planting. Berry puffs up with pride.

Someone muffles their laugh into a cough and you startle, turning quickly. 

It’s Lucas.

You didn’t hear him come in at all. 

For a second a jolt of fear runs through your chest.

He stares at you wide-eyed and you catch sight of something like realization flickering in his eyes before he bows his head in apology.

“Sorry,” he says, with full sincerity. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Standing beside him, his Piplup makes a low chirping noise of agreement that Berry replies to before you can by jumping down from your lap and nudging him in greeting with such enthusiasm that he bowls him over. A loud flurry of scolding peeps erupts almost immediately.

Lucas blinks at you in bewilderment as you accept his apology with a nod and offer him one of your own. Then he smiles.

“Oh no,” he says, mirth clear in his tone. “That’s alright. Jewel here doesn’t really mean it. Your Berry’s always been saying hello to him like that.”

Jewel is such a pretty name and this Piplup with his sapphire eyes and satiny feathers certainly suits his title of treasure. You tell him so and Lucas’s smile grows wider, softening the storm of his eyes to something closer to calm waters.

“He’s got an older brother named Crown,” he informs you. “That’s where I got his name from. He’s pretty royal-like don’t you think?”

You look at Jewel who is doing his level best to order Berry back into the blankets with unsuccessful results. Berry flops into his side and takes Jewel down with him to a series of protesting chirps which he blithely ignores until Jewel subsides with a huff and steals the majority of the blankets.

Looking at him reminds you of a little princeling, one used to being listened to out of love. And his lack of true upset tells you that he knows Berry is listening in his own way, but sometimes he would rather Berry listened another way for once.

It doesn’t stop him from getting Berry back for his antics by spinning around in the blankets with a sly look in his eyes, bit by bit until Berry has been tightly cocooned with only his head free. Jewel flops on top of him with a victorious hmph and pokes at his cheeks with glee. Berry looks at you with wide pleading eyes and Jewel chirps smugly when you laugh.

 _Prince Jewel_ , you dub him in your mind, as you congratulate him on his victory. _The adorable authority on ruling Berries_.

Jewel lifts his chin, pleased.

“Well now,” says the professor, amusement warming his voice as he bends down to untangle the two. “I’m sure you’re both happy to see each other again but let’s be gentle now, shall we? Up we go.”

He places Jewel in Lucas’s open arms and Berry in yours. “Now then, Glen. It’s quite late and I’m sure you’ll be wanting a bit of a rest before you set out proper. Would you like to stay at the lab? Or hmm.”

Lucas interrupts him before he can continue. “We have an open room at our house professor,” he says. “The lights are going to be on all night here and well. You don’t really have much space to spare for anyone to get a proper rest. Sorry professor.”

“No, no.” says Professor Rowan. “You bring up an excellent point. In fact I was just about to suggest that. Well, what do you think Glen?”

Lucas turns to you with a sheepish laugh. “The room is actually mine but I’m off to Jubilife tonight so I won’t be using it. Is that okay?”

You look at Berry who is blinking hazily in your lap, already half-asleep but still struggling to stay up to keep you and everyone else company, and nod in agreement.

“Excellent,” says the professor. “Do take care on your way out. I am truly looking forward to hearing about your journey and the pokemon you meet, young Glen. Travel safe, the two of you.”

You wave goodbye to Professor Rowan and his assistants, and tuck Berry under your arm like usual where he promptly relaxes and lets his limbs go slack. Lucas looks on with bemusement and returns Jewel to his pokeball before leading you outside. The contrast in light between indoors and outdoors is so sudden that you stumble on your way out of the labs and Lucas just barely manages to snag you before you fall on your face.

“Alright there?” he says.

You hum in embarrassed agreement.

“Okay,” he says with a sort of laugh running through his voice. Nothing mean, you realize almost immediately but there is amusement there. “Let’s go. It's pretty late and you'll need to sleep soon if you want an early start tomorrow.”

You are all of a sudden quite tired, as if the professor bringing up the lateness of the hour and realizing you really should get to sleep to recover from the night's events has flicked a switch in your mind. Your footsteps are slower than usual but Lucas is patient as he shows you around town and points out the still open pokemart and pokecenter on the way to his house. He takes your hand when you falter on a step and helps you steady yourself. 

It’s different from the way Barry does it, with his hands vibrating with energy and radiating heat, rushing you forward and ever higher. You feel more awake with Barry, his light and laughter infectious. But now something in you calms. Lucas himself radiates calm and maybe that’s why. His hand is warm and firm. You are safe enough to feel drowsy knowing he won’t let you fall.

Lucas’s house is close to the beach and from here you can hear the faint sound of the ocean waves crashing against the shore in pendulum motion. For a moment, you get to listen to its consistent rhythm punctuated only by the soft jingle of keys and the click of an opening door at your side. The house is quiet and dark but for the low murmur of the television and its faint light. As you both walk in and take off your shoes, an elderly man turns from his seat on the couch to look over. 

He speaks in a low whisper so as not to wake the little girl curled up on his lap.

“Lucas? We thought you were off to Jubilife tonight?”

“Hey grandpa,” Lucas whispers back. “I still am. I’m just here to lend Glen my room for the night.”

“Ah, I see.” He turns to you with a serious nod and his eyes are steel-grey and strong, but the marks of frequent joy are still lined into the corners of his eyes and mouth. His voice is sincere if not gentle. “Welcome to our home, Glen. I hope you are able to rest well.”

_Thank you._

“Would you like anything to eat?” he says and you shake your head quickly before he gets up. “Alright then. I suppose my famous nanab-pecha pie will have to wait until morning then.”

Your eyes light up with curiosity and he catches it immediately. “Hoh? Interested are we? Well, I’m sorry to say but the recipe is top secret stuff. I’ve broken records with this pie, you know?”

_Records? Top secret?_

“Well,” he begins, much louder than before but his mouth clicks shut as the bundle in his lap moves just the slightest bit. The little girl wrinkles her nose and grumbles a bit in her sleep. He hums under his breath, his eyes showing a hint of panic and pats her back soothingly. His shoulders slump when she subsides.

“That’s my little sister. She’s got grandpa wrapped around her little finger or he’d never let her stay up this late and fall asleep watching Pokemon Ranger,” Lucas says in a soft whisper with a grin tugging at his lips. 

His grandfather harrumphs but doesn’t deny it.

“And the recipe? The ingredients are nanabs and pechas,” whispers Lucas as he points to the stairs and the two of you begin to climb up as quietly as you can. He lowers his voice a little more for the next bit. “But the secret is that he grows the berries by hand.”

Lucas hides his laugh with a cough as another, louder harrumph trails you up the stairs. Then a childish whine rings out followed by a flurry of apologies. You can hear his grandfather soothing the little girl back to sleep with lullaby soon after, sung in a low rasping voice. 

“It’s okay,” Lucas says to your questioning look. “He doesn’t mind me telling you.”

You reach the top of the flight and he opens the door to the left and lets you in, flicking the lights on.

“Here it is,” he says. “My room. Home sweet home.”

The room is lined with bookshelves and filled with books. Books on chairs, on desks, in leaning towers propped up with pillows. Papers are scattered across the floor in strange formations as if to match the constellations drawn on the walls. In the corner is a large, neatly made bed and everything else around it appears to have had a whirlwind run through it, knickknacks tossed into every corner and stray marbles glittering against the plush carpets.

Lucas coughs, cheeks turning just the slightest bit red.

“It’s a little messy sorry,” he says, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I wasn’t expecting guests today. Make yourself at home, though.”

You shake your head to reassure him it’s fine and walk around a collection of open notebooks on the ground on your way to the bed. One of them says **Field Notes #46** at the top and you catch sight of an oddly shaped pokemon drawn on top of it as you pass by. Something black-red lights up faintly at the back of your mind as you see it, eager. Your focus on placing Berry down on the bed pushes it aside however, and your arms sigh in instant relief. You’ve gotten used to carrying him around but he weighs a lot more asleep.

“Alright, get yourself all settled in.” says Lucas. “I’ve got to go now. Will you be okay?”

Of course. You think so?

He gives you an encouraging look before he goes. “If you need anything, grandpa will be happy to help out so don’t be shy. Have a good rest and I’ll see you around sometime, okay?”

Waving goodbye, Lucas shuts the door to his room with a soft click and leaves you alone. It’s quiet all of sudden. The sudden lack of him comes as a mild shock to your sleep-slow mind but it’s nothing you can’t deal with.

You decide to make yourself at home like he said and your bag falls off your back with a soft thump. You stretch out with a deep sigh of relief, letting go of the tension you’ve been carrying around all night. Riffling through the bag nets you a pair of pajamas and a toothbrush and you tiptoe out of the room and find yourself in the bathroom in short order. The mirror informs you that there are faint bruises under your eyes, still easily hidden but a short rest will do wonders for them. You haven’t slept in quite a while. 

The mirror also informs you that your hair is a mess now that your hat is off. Brushing it out taxes your already tired arms but you pull through and manage to make Berry go through his proper night routine as well. He doesn’t even grumble but he splays out across the bedsheets and falls back asleep the second his head hits the pillow. You take your time about getting to bed, gently relocating a stack of books so you can reach the windows and push them open to get some air. 

The moon is still in hiding but there is plenty of light from the stars and you watch them for a moment before your eyes grow too heavy to keep open. Then you crawl under the covers and get comfortable and you fall asleep. 

Well. You try to fall asleep. 

As the seconds pass the rhythm of your heartbeat only ticks higher and higher until you can feel it pounding against your ribs hard enough you think it’ll bruise. Something begins to crack within your chest. Sleep doesn’t make itself known but fear does. You push it back, unwilling to deal with it now.

The red in the back your mind twitches and surges back to life.

Fear comes rampaging. 

You sit up.

You feel unsafe.

You return the dozing Berry to his pokeball so he can rest easier and look at the room. You consider pacing to run off the excess energy but as you sit there on a bed that is not yours, in a room you have been graciously invited to be a guest in, you realize something. This is someone’s home and you don’t belong here.

A feeling you hate to dwell on opens up within your chest. The walls in this room are painted blue instead of green or brown. The windows are open but the air that comes through is warm and sea-tinged and unfamiliar. You feel wide awake and electric with tension, jaw welded tight and shoulders hunched.

Nothing is right.

Nothing is going right.

You move to your feet and get dressed again, putting on a heavier jacket as you do. You run your fingers across Berry’s pokeball as you get it properly clipped in and take some solace in the fact that at least one of you will be getting proper rest. The hood of your coat comes up. You walk downstairs silently, shoving on your boots and slipping out the door.

You feel awful for wasting Lucas’s time and his generosity.

You feel a twinge of regret for missing out on the berries.

You don’t notice the thoughtful frown that watches you leave.

  * • ● • ☆ • ● • ●



There is no snow to crunch underneath your boots but stray patches of ice still glitter in the faint starlight. You plant one foot on the ground and let the other one glide smooth back and forth across the ice just to remember how it feels. Then you put your weight down on it and watch the way it buckles and breaks under the pressure. You move on.

The grass around you is knee high and the wind is nonexistent. Your chest is tight, each breath sticks in your throat. Seconds crawl by like claws at the back of your neck.

You keep walking. You need to keep walking. 

You can’t hear anything at all and there is something jarringly wrong about that. No night owl noises, not even the sound of your own movement or the pulse of blood in your body. You have to press a hand against your chest and one at your throat to make sure that you’re still alive.

Leaves brush by the tips of your fingers with each step forward and your thoughts are slurry at this point. You feel like your head is screwed on sideways, the angle of your spine all wrong. At some point you stop moving. You cannot pinpoint when but there is a moment where the world tips on its axis and leaves you lying on the ground. 

The ground smells green and cold. Cheek pressed against the grass, your heart twists oddly and the weight of your bag is heavier on your back this way. It makes your ribs ache as they are crushed, invisible bruising just barely cushioned by the layers you are wearing. There is nothing in front of you but a large swathe of grass, standing silent and still.

Then it begins to move.

You are frozen in place.

You don’t blink as golden eyes appear in rustling shadows and creep towards you. They stop at the edges of your already flickering vision and stay there. 

Then the golden eyes blink once at you, very slowly. 

You copy them.

It is the right move to make. 

Soon after a cold nose presses against your cheek. When you don’t respond, the shinx pads around you in circles, bemused and a little concerned.

“Mrr?”

It pushes its face against yours, rubbing up against the curve of your cheeks until sparks leap from its fur and sink underneath your skin. Sparks you can _hear_. It gives you something to hold on to. Your breathing eases enough for you to inhale a shuddering breath and let it out and then do it again in measured cycles.

The shinx purrs encouragement at you and that wakes you up long enough for you to drag yourself into a sitting position. Fumbling at your bag with fingers numbed by the cold, you manage to get it off your shoulders and unzip one of the compartments. Berry’s pokeball gleams in the low light and for a second you can only stare it. 

The shinx catches sight of it and runs a circle around you in excitement.

You shake your head no and put a finger against your lips. _Shh_ , you try to convey. _He’s sleeping_. 

As you rummage through the bag with still shaking hands for a snack to offer one of your hands hits the package by accident. 

_Ah_.

You realize a moment before it happens that this is what will break you. The package still being there; the square corners of it pushing into your palm. Physical proof of home existing.

Biting down on your tongue and clenching your teeth, you hunch over the bag and feel the last scraps of the control you were clinging onto by the nails torn away. Your composure goes down the drain. You have enough presence of mind to muffle yourself with the puffy sleeve of your coat but that’s about all you have left.

On the cold ground, the first night of your trainer journey with a wild shinx and the open sky for company, you cry until you feel sick. Sick with agony, sick with horror, sick of death and running and being in this situation on your own when all your life you’ve had your best friend there beside you. It was never supposed to be this way. Things were supposed to be okay. Better than okay. Things were supposed to be _happy_.

Tears drip hot down your face and red roars to life at the back of your head so loudly that the next time you blink you think you’re crying blood. Your hands are no longer your hands and then they are. You want to tear this emotion from your body so badly and only the knowledge that you musn’t, that you need to persevere, that this is only a moment in time that will go away keeps you from reaching for your throat.

(At least he got out safe. It could be worth it just for that. It _will_ be worth it.)

Your hands wind tightly into your scarf, into the softness of it, the clumsy green handiwork of plant buds in snow. You remember the flowers at your windowsill smashed one by one, the porcelain from their pots cutting into your soles, petals crushed and soil strewn on the floor. You remember crying, begging, pleading. Footsteps. Screaming. Pain on top of pain. Darkness pooled in your palms. The way the snow sparkled tonight.

_Compose yourself!_

You shake the memories from your head, breathing faster and faster. Focus instead on the green at the edges of your bag where you tried to immortalize your garden with a needle and thread. Try to picture the green walls of the room you were safest in. 

The package too is twined with green ribbon and you remember his mother with her warm, tired eyes (your mother as well, in truth) and the spark of her smile just like her son's. Light in her too. You grind your teeth and force yourself through the hurt, determined to come out the other side. Green like Berry, you think, and stare hazily at the pokeball right before your eyes. Green like growing things. 

Some of the red subsides. You feel a little better.

A soft mew comes from beside you and you turn around, hiccuping. The shinx is staring at you. There is an odd, pensive sort of resolve in its lamplight eyes. It pushes its head against your leg once as if to comfort you and then turns on its heels and runs away.

Fresh pain bubbles up because now you’ve gone and done it. You’ve scared away someone else. You wipe viciously at your eyes and swallow down the rest of your sobs, shaking with the effort of putting yourself back together. Composure, that’s what you need. That’s what you _always_ must have.

A nearby tree offers enough support for you to get back on to your feet. You are still seeing blood where there is none (where it used to be, G̶͍̻̠̦͌̌̉͊̏͊̑l̵̡͍͚̭̤̔̂́͘͝ȅ̸̢̗͚̣͜͜n̶̛̺̦͙͔̥̎̈̌̑͠.) but that doesn’t matter. You close your bag and slip it on, the clip with Berry’s pokeball on it within easy reach.

You suck in one harsh breath after the other.

You can do this. You have to do this.

Things will be okay.

Everything will be fine.

You just need to keep going.

The weight of your bag settles on you and the red settles in you instead of sloshing around inside your body, painting nightmares into the back of your eyelids or sitting like a spiked ball at the end of your throat so you can barely swallow without pain. Now it makes itself known in a quieter way. Subtle suffering instead of the harshness that makes it up.

You can hear again yes, but now you hear more and the sound of your hand lifting from the tree scrapes across your eardrums like sandpaper. You don’t know if this is better or worse. _It hurts_ , a side of you says, sounding altogether too young. _It hurts!_

 _It’s safer now_ , the other insists. _From now on, we will always hear it coming_.

Nothing will ever be able to sneak up on you again so you compromise. 

It doesn’t hurt that bad. This much is still within your limits. You dash your hand across your eyes one last time and blink away the static. You have to get going. There’s no more time to waste.

Someone calls your name.

“Glen?”


	3. for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.

for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.

Your eyes are hot and you are burning with humiliation.

It is not that Lucas intends to humiliate you, of course not. It is just the fact of your existence in front of him, your bearing at this very moment that ignites the horror within your heart. You feel as though you cannot hold your head up in front of him and so you drop your line of vision, going still when your sight catches on golden eyes. The shinx?

"Glen?" says Lucas again, his voice painfully soft. "Are you okay?"

How did the shinx find you again? How did Lucas find you at all? Was this shinx one of his pokemon?

You focus hard on these questions to avoid looking anywhere at Lucas or thinking any harder about the current situation. The shinx bounds over and curls around your ankles, purring.

“Glen?”

You clear your throat too loud and manage to avoid wincing at the soreness. You point at the shinx, still avoiding his gaze. It looks up at you, noticing your sudden motion, and mews.

“Oh, him? Is he one of your pokemon? He just came up to me out of nowhere and started — hey wait a minute. Don’t change the subject.” He takes a deep breath and continues, “Is everything alright?”

You can hear the worry in his voice and guilt begins to rise. You are _desperate_ to change the subject.

“Glen are you — are you injured?”

At this you shake your head, still looking away. A moment passes and Lucas sighs.

“Alright,” he says softly. “As long as you’re not hurt.” 

He offers you his hand. “Come on, then. You’re probably not going to sleep anytime soon either, huh?”

The tremor that passes through you at that question is communicated through your fingers as you take his hand. He tightens his grasp just the slightest bit, offering silent comfort. “Okay, that’s fine. It’s going to be fine.”

The shinx butts its head against your leg in agreement with boisterous meow and decides to run a quick circle around you both. 

“Huh,” says Lucas. “Are you sure he’s not one of yours?”

The shinx runs ahead and then comes back and takes a look at you again, his tail thrashing. He meows again, louder. A pang goes through your chest, a mixture of pained longing and something else, something softer. You would like him to be.

Shaking your head, you point at the clip that holds Berry’s pokeball and nothing else. Lucas hums under his breath. 

“Hmm alright,” he says. “You’re a new trainer so I was going to run you through how to catch a pokemon anyways. I needed to do some data collection tonight, but I’ll let you have this one.”

The shinx perks up.

“Rrrowr!”

Lucas laughs and pulls a pokeball out of one of his pockets. “Okay calm down, buddy. We’re getting to it. Well. I don’t really think you’ll need to catch him the usual way. He seems to like you a lot. Ready to give it a try?”

The smile that forms on your face is effortless, unsteady but no less honest for it. It is answer enough. Lucas’s eyes grow soft. He hands you the pokeball and the two of you crouch down. 

The shinx comes over to you immediately and rubs its cheeks against yours. Without any further prompting he butts his head against the pokeball and blue light flashes in front of you. 

The pokeball shakes once, twice, three times and then lights up with a decisive click.

 _Spruce_ , you decide.

“Oh, really?” says Lucas. “Why Spruce?”

You hesitate for a moment, considering, but give him the answer in the end.

 _It’s safest under the spruce trees._

And in a way this shinx had saved you.

Lucas makes a thoughtful sound. 

You click the pokeball and light flashes again. This time shinx reaches up with its paws against your chest and taps your nose with its own. You nudge back gently. 

_Hello...Spruce._

You worry a little about the name now that you’ve said it. Maybe he’d like a lighter one? Something with more spark to match his demeanor? 

_Mm! Hello! I will protect you. Promise!_

Up close his eyes are almost glowing. His teeth are pointed and sharp. Spruce rushes in to rub his fluffy head underneath your chin with a happy growl and then bounces back on his paws.

_We’re ready to go now, right? Go, go, go!_

He runs a circle around himself, catches sight of his tail and then decides to chase it. You can’t help but laugh as you get up to your feet. Spruce is a whirlwind of energy, throwing off golden light in his excitement. Safety in glowing eyes. Your new friend is familiar in all the best ways.

Lucas’s smile shines in the dark and the happiness in it mirrors your own. He sounds much more relaxed, when he says, “Are we ready to go?”

You nod and let him lead you back to the road.

Checking over several patches of grass, Lucas steps into one of them and motions for you to stay put. His footsteps are silent as he checks the grass for the pokemon he wants. When he catches sight of it, he lets his pokemon out and the battle begins. Jewel knocks the other pokemon back with a well placed water attack and as it wobbles on its feet Lucas throws out a pokeball.

You can hear the click from where you are. Lucas turns to you with a thumbs up which you return with two. Jewel returns to his pokeball with a cheerful wave and Lucas walks back to you.

“And that’s how you do it,” he says. “I’m just going to let this little guy rest for a while. Will you be letting Spruce stay out of his pokeball?”

You both look at Spruce who has graduated from chasing his tail and is now pouncing at the shadows dancing in moonlight. You decide to let him stay out. Despite the hour, he doesn’t seem the slightest bit tired. You tell Lucas so and he hums.

“Hm, good choice," he says, rummaging through his bag and then filling your hands with pokeballs and potions.

You stare at him with the unexpected load in your arms. He gestures for you to put them away and you do so on autopilot. He continues speaking, not acknowledging his actions in the slightest, as if he hadn’t given you anything at all.

“He’s got a lot of energy to burn off. Think he’ll really keep you on your toes, this one.”

Spruce turns towards him and flashes his teeth with a low, rolling mrrr. 

“Haha, that’s what I thought! Alright Glen, it’s a straightforward journey from here to Jubilife but how about we go together? I wouldn’t mind the company.”

He’s still a little worried, you can tell but he keeps his tone light. You nod and offer your hand this time. He takes it.

“So,” he begins as you start walking. “You want to hear about the latest project at the lab? Well, recently the professor’s gotten his hands on this pretty rare —” 

  * • ● • ☆ • ● • ●



Somehow, Lucas manages to keep up the thread of conversation all the way up to Jubilife City, stopping only to offer you some snacks (you do get to try the berry pie after all!) and a cup of hot tea from a travel thermos. 

By the time you stop at Jubilife City’s gates you have a concrete understanding of the professor’s latest research goals and the data collection Lucas has been doing to narrow down the field of effect. 

Spruce on the other hand had looked like he was going to fall asleep the entire time Lucas was talking, running off into the distance but keeping you in his sights, perking up when it was time for battles with the trainers and pokemon in the area. Now he was safe in his pokeball, resting after several back-to-back battles in the wild.

“Here it is,” says Lucas, taking a break from describing some of the more specific pokedex functions. “Jubilife City! I know it’s a lot so take your time and get ready before we go in, alright?”

It _is_ a lot but having Lucas there helps quite a bit. He seems used to taking care of people and he does it in a way that isn’t intrusive or pitying. You wonder if it comes from being an older sibling and strangle that line of thought right after. You won’t belittle his actions like that. Either way, you resolve to pay him back for all the kindness he's shown you someday.

Jubilife City is loud and condensed, with tall buildings layered as far as the eye can see. Walking into the city is like stepping into another world and the low-level buzz in your mind is immediately overridden by the cacophony of sounds that Jubilife throws at you. It’s enough to make you dizzy but you’re determined not to rely on Lucas too much. You catch sight of the red roof of a pokemon center and head towards it.

Someone swoops in to intercept you before you can reach your destination. You look up. And up some more. A man in a long, windblown overcoat stands in front of you. He looks at you and Lucas.

“Um hello,” says Lucas. “Can we help you?”

The man clears his throat at once and introduces himself with flair as part of the Interpol, the International Police, a large widespread organization with high prestige and the stringent rules to maintain it. His words come to a halt right before he mentions his name and he frowns for a bit.

“My code name, it is Looker. It is what they all call me,” he says, having finally decided on what to say. His voice has an odd burr to it and he rolls his words just the slightest bit, like he’s still not used to saying to them. Or maybe not used to saying them in this language?

A strange man to be sure but his tone is sincere and his eyes are honest as he urges you to stay safe and keep an eye out for strange individuals. He’s investigating a strange group named Team Galactic, he tells you. It’s the first time you’ve ever heard the name Team Galactic but the name sparks a sense of memory somehow. 

Your jaw tightens involuntarily, teeth at the ready as if wanting to bite down on something you can’t see and tear it open. Something glowing and solid. Not to destroy it you realize. Just to rip it apart and see what’s on the inside. You want to avoid Mr. Looker’s gaze so you bow your head in thanks. Mr. Looker blinks at you, bemused and then he gives you both his farewells and goes back on watch.

“Strange guy,” says Lucas in a low voice, watching Mr. Looker dodge between street-lamps and vanish into the shadows. He turns to look at you. “But he had a point, you know. Be careful out there. Keep your head on a swivel.”

He purses his lips and squints at you. You get the strange feeling that he’s just barely holding himself back from telling you not to follow strangers or take food from people you don't know. You feel a mixture of amusement and surprisingly fond exasperation.

 _I can take care of myself, you know. Really_.

Lucas startles. “Hm? Yeah I knew that uh — know that. I’m just a worrywart, you know?” He clears his throat. “Anyways! I know you’re plenty strong and you’ve got lots of guts. You’ll be okay, I’m sure of it but since you’re traveling on your own make sure to take extra caution. I’ll be doing the same too, of course.”

You nod firmly and Lucas pats your head. “Alright, then! I’ve gotta go now. See you around, Glen. Safe travels!”

You wave a fond farewell that he returns and soon he’s completely out of sight, lost in the fray of a city that is remarkably awake for the current hour. You scan your surroundings to get your bearings again and head straight to the pokecenter where you swipe your ID at the counter and have one of the nurses on duty take your pokemon for healing.

There’s something extremely relaxing about being in the pokecenter. Maybe it’s the airy music or the low chatter of pokemon and trainers. Perhaps the way the nurses give you your space as soon as they see the tension rise in your shoulders when one of them comes too close. Your pokeballs are back in your possession in no time and the nurse that assures you of their health is soft-spoken and stands at a polite distance.

“You’re a pretty new trainer, hm?” She says. “We get a lot of newcomers coming through this city because of the Pokemon School. It’s got classes for beginners that are open this hour but you’d like the library there more I’d think. You seem the quiet type.”

You are quiet and you do like libraries so you thank her for the tip instead of succumbing to the crawling unease of being noticed. Though your thanks is just a little bit shaky it seems to come off as nerves more than anything else. 

She waves you off with a little laugh. “Come back soon, little trainer. Safe travels!”

You leave as quickly as you can without looking like you’re running away.

The Pokemon School is right next door to the pokecenter as it turns out. It’s a large building with a roof lower than the surrounding skyscrapers. You cross the road and walk in through the door. 

“Here for a class?” asks one of the receptionists at the front desk, spinning around to face her computer as soon as you walk in. Her hands are already clicking at the keyboard. “You’re a bit late, dearie. They’ve already started but I can sign you up for —”

Cutting her off would be rude but you shake your head nonetheless and she stops typing, pushing up her glasses. “Oh? What can I help you with then?”

There’s a sign nearby that reads ‘Library’ so you point at it and watch the furrow between her eyebrows disappear. 

“Of course, of course,” she says. “Why didn’t you say so before? Well, just make sure you’ve got your ID card ready to swipe when you bring your books out and you’ll be all set. Have a lovely time, dearie.”

The library is beautiful in a way that is lived-in and comfortable. Its bookshelves are gleaming wood with scuffed step-stools underneath them. Large round carpets that are soft and colorful cover the cold floors. There are heaters stationed around the corners and ends so the whole space is toasty warm. The books are a mixture between well-cared for and well-loved, some pages with notes scrawled into the margins and some that have small drawings in the corners.

You wander around for a bit, picking up books from shelves and tables and flipping through them. For some reason you just can’t focus on one which is odd for you. You tap your fingertips against the glossy pages of a magazine and try to figure out what’s off, idly taking note of the trainer’s pose and pokemon. 

It takes a moment to pinpoint the source of the buzzing under your skin. It’s anticipation, fizzing in your veins, building up until you can feel it like a shiver racing down your limbs. It feels like you’re waiting for something to happen. 

Something good. Something that will set you alight. 

At the same time, you know that hope leads to despair better than anyone else. 

You rock back on your heels and watch the bookshelf in front of you nervously. _It could be good_ , you say to yourself. 

And it could be bad and it could be nothing but in the end you’ll just have to see for yourself. 

You take small steps forward, the plush carpets muffling your footsteps.

You walk around the corner and feel the anticipation grow louder, an ocean roar instead of a streamlet whisper.

You walk around the corner and the thread, your golden thread, _tugs_ inside your chest.

You walk around the corner and the sun is there. The sun is _there_ flaring red-gold in your vision and your lungs burn up. The rhythm of your heartbeat changes course, syncs up.

Barry whirls around even though he couldn’t possibly have heard you coming and his eyes go round and wide. The sun rushes up to you, rushes you off your feet and you are warm again.

“I knew it!” says Barry, his voice muffled into your shoulder. You can hear the joy in it and all the other things he doesn’t give voice to, loud and clear. “I knew you’d make it! I knew you’d come here. I could feel it.”

You answer by tightening your arms around him, the soft fluff of his hair brushing against your cheeks. Your eyes are hot but the tears don’t fall, blurring your sight until all you see is liquid light. There is nothing but sheer, pure happiness bursting through your chest.

It was worth it.

It was _worth_ it.

  * • ● • ☆ • ● • ●



Nov. 15

many bright eyes 

locked behind glass panes

never blinking, looking at things 

that no-one else can see

and lighting the only way forward 

for these beasts with broken wings

\-- -- --

I’m out. I’m out. 

No one will ever take me again. 

I won’t let them.

I’ll never go back. Not until I’m indestructible.

~~Not until _we’re_ indestructible. ~~

~~That way nothing can hurt us ever again.~~

You wake up from a dream where you walked against the current of a river, searching for something. The water was red where it was calm, foaming black where it wasn’t. Eyes caught and held yours from a distance, deeper than the abyss. Your skin prickles just remembering them but you’re not at all afraid.

You’re not afraid but you don’t want to have that dream again. 

Something in it disturbs you to an uncomfortable level. That feeling lingers like a thin layer of sealing on your skin, locking you away from the rest of the world.

You stand up to get ready still thinking about it.

The sound of your pokemon waking up pulls you back into your body. Berry rouses himself with a loud yawn and picks his head off the pillow with great effort while Spruce stretches out in a way that appears entirely impossible for a solid being, tail waving behind him. He says good morning with a rumbling purr and Berry knocks him off his paws to use his tummy as a pillow. 

Spruce bats at him but the wave of his tail is lazy and unconcerned. It won’t be for long, you already know, because Spruce likes to move unfettered but for now his eyes are still squinted with sleep and he stays put, allowing Berry to get in a few more minutes of rest. The two of them had gotten enough time to get acquainted and befriend one another yesterday when Barry had introduced you to his own team. 

Chimchar had been there as you expected and the new addition to Barry’s team was an oddly quiet Starly with light feathers, a sweet bird who ate the berries you offered her with delicate manners. Barry hadn’t given his pokemon official nicknames, he told you, because what if they wanted to change them later?

You’d thought it a curious but charming choice and it was clear his pokemon didn’t mind at all, responding to his every word and revolving around him like stars in orbit. Barry was safe and he was happy and those facts lived in you now as solid sparkling things, things to armor yourself with, to pick up and look at sometimes when you needed to remind yourself of what truly mattered.

Yesterday, you’d opened the package together and found two pairs of sturdy hand-made gloves and two maps. A small note from Barry’s mother was at the bottom of the box, wishing you both a safe journey and not to force yourself to return until you had accomplished what you were seeking.

“Oh yeah,” said Barry, folding the note and putting it in one of your side pockets. “I forgot to grab mine when I was taking off!” 

He handed you one of the maps, “Here, this one’s for you! I bought it before I left. It’s even got your name on the back, see?”

It did have your name there, written in untidy scrawl that gave away its author. You showed Barry how to upload the map onto his pokedex and the features that would let him make notes on locations and watched his eyes gleam. He immediately dragged you outside to test it out, noting the important locations in Jubilife City with colorful pins.

The green ribbon had found its way around one of the shoulder straps of his bag as the two of you walked around, trying to turn it into a bow. Neither of you were good at tying bows so even the lopsided final result had taken a lot of baffled tugging and muttering and arm-twisting logistics until finally, his starly pulled a piece of ribbon through a loop and the whole thing was tied tight.

“Nice job!” said Barry, and she bobbed her head in answer. The motion was familiar and you catalogued it before turning your focus from it in favor of trying on the gloves. They were a perfect fit. Barry’s had the look of anti stress gloves and cut off at the fingers while yours were strangely sheened, made with material that felt silky against your skin. They were a deep, dark green and Barry’s were a brown that bordered on honey. Both colors that brought good associations to mind.

With the gloves on and a huge smile on his face, Barry waved goodbye to you from one of the city’s gates, both his pokemon perched on his shoulders waving with him. You’d seen him off with a few extra presents, a potion or two that you had found while exploring the city and a paralyze heal you had spotted in the grass.

Now, you put the gloves on while you dress and marvel at them once more. There’s a weight to them you hadn’t noticed before, something that could help ground you. Your pokemon finish getting up by the time you’re fully ready and Spruce is already bouncing with energy, tripping in the sheets and getting lost in them as he tries to get off the bed.

Berry untangles him with a sigh and he’s off and running immediately. The three of you go through your morning routines and when you’re done you gesture to the pokeballs and the two allow you to return them, knowing you’re going to let them out for breakfast soon enough anyways.

Poking your head out from your room, you scan the hallways, catching the eye of the nurse joy from last night who waves cheerfully at you. No one else is there, yet. The upper floor of the pokecenter has rooms for all kinds of trainers to stay in but you don’t particularly want to bump into anyone this early in the morning while you’re still unfinished.

It’s a clear shot to the stairs down to the first floor. You made sure you tidy up the room before you go and take off. Breakfast is a hasty affair as you take one of the corner seats in the pokecenter. Even though the wall is to your back and there is no possible way to sneak up on you from any direction, short of ghosting straight through the furniture, the amount of people in close vicinity is still uncomfortable. You eat as fast as you can.

Your pokemon return to their pokeballs after eating and you make sure they’re well-groomed and full and ready to take on whatever the day may bring. You slip out the door and walk right, past the Pokemon School. Barry had pinned a note to your map that said ‘Global Terminal’ and you’re eager to check it out.

A trainer with heavy-lidded eyes and a quiet drawl turns you back from where he’s leaning against the gates around the building. He’s wearing a security uniform and asks, not unkindly, if you have any badges in your possession. You do not.

“Sorry, kid.” He says with an apologetic shrug. “Gotta have at least one of those if you want to use the terminal. Rules are rules.”

You hum thoughtfully and go back on your way. 

You haven’t really thought of gym badges except in an abstract way. It occurs to you now that you will have to think about them seriously. Gym badges are a symbol of strength and power and authority. 

You want that. 

You want that and the thought of having it curls around your heart and squeezes. Yes, you want strength and authority and the power to do what you want. You need it more than anyone else.

You’ve just been too busy thinking about more tangible things but you turn your mind to the subject now and imagine it. How it would feel to know no one could ever hurt you again, could never take your things or throw you down or be a threat to the things and people you cared for. You imagine what it would feel like to live calm and safe and free. 

You stare at the sky with your eyes closed and the light turns the backs of them red. You stretch your hand up to block the rays and look up through your eyelashes at the burning star that everything revolves around.

Your pokeballs shake a little in their clip and you remember: _We will rise high and turn into something new._ _Let’s bloom together_. _I will protect you_.

You remember footsteps and snow, darkness answering in place of Berry’s silence. You remember weakness and scalding blood and broken things. You remember months of nothing and the way the eyes of people who care about you know to look _at_ you, not through.

And you decide.

  * • ● • ☆ • ● • ●



In a cave the map informs you is called Ravaged Path, leading to Floaroma Town, you catch a zubat and nickname him Nightshade. He’s a far sight smaller than the rest of the zubat around and incredibly timid, shying away when Spruce and Berry approach him. There are rocks here that block the path forward but you don’t intend to make your way past them anyways. Instead, you let your pokemon battle all the trainers and wild pokemon they come across.

It’s easy enough to explain to them why, though Berry needs no such clarification, always knowing. Spruce wants to get stronger in order to protect, he decides. Nightshade flutters nervously around you and says he wants to be big and brave so no one will scare him, lethal so he can defend himself against those who do. You tell him what nightshade flowers are and what their roots do and he listens with silent focus. 

_The flowers are purple_ , you continue even though he does not know what purple is. This is important. _They’re the same color as you_.

He makes a pleased sound and relaxes enough to lay on your shoulder for a moment. Afterwards, he requests to stay in his pokeball for the rest of the day. At night, you take the path to Oreburgh City and your pokemon grow in leaps and bounds. Nightshade takes flight under the safe cover of darkness and tells you where it is safe to sleep so you bed down under the stars with all companions beside you.

It’s easier to breathe now that you have something else to reach for, something that will help you keep the sun safe so it can shine for as long as it likes and never be thrown from the sky. You tell your pokemon this so they know your reasons for fighting just as you know theirs. They fall asleep to dreams of sun-drenched meadows and safety under spruces. You fall asleep to red and wake up shivering with something other than the cold. 

You don’t fall asleep again.

This goes on for several nights. You begin to sleep during the day. It is only marginally better but little rest is better than none at all.

You take on the path to Oreburgh City with thorough planning and careful resource management. You have enough potions to see you through a fortnight but intend not to use them too much. At Oreburgh Gate, you’re intercepted by a hiker with wide, callused hands and a round friendly face who tells you the rocks blocking the path can be shattered. The move to shatter them however, requires badge authorization to use outside of battle.

Badges, again. Their importance sears itself into your mind once more. You thank him for the information and he sends you off with a wave. The cave is crawling with trainers. You think back to the hiker for a moment. He didn’t ask you for a battle. Strange. 

You make note of this. Thankfulness is no excuse for lack of caution. Lucas’s worried eyes appear in your mind for a minute and you huff. You hope he appreciates the care you’re taking, wherever he is.

The sounds in the cave are amplified further when night falls, water dripped from stalactites echoing in your skull and the sound of ground type pokemon going about their business scraping across your skin. You battle two more trainers before making it to the end sometime near sunrise. Your pokemon are exhausted so you take a roundabout way to reach your goal and exit the path on shaky feet, resolving to get some sweets for Nightshade and an assortment of snacks for Berry and Spruce to enjoy, to thank them all for their hard work.

There’s an excited boy at the bottom of the stairs that leads to the city. He bounces around you and asks if you want to see the gym. You decline and ask him to show you the way to the pokecenter instead and he obliges with good-nature. You listen to him chatter about the vents and the mine and how many trainers come by to battle the gym leader.

“He’s suuuper strong,” he says, pumping his fist into the sky. “When I get strong enough, I’m going to battle him too!”

You wish him good luck and stumble into the pokecenter, offering your pokeballs to the nurse. You consider sending a message to Professor Rowan but you haven’t caught that many pokemon all things considered. The nurse returns your pokeballs to you and you turn around after a short break with your pokemon, only to catch sight of the young boy loitering nearby. 

Is he waiting for you?

You go out to ask. The answer is yes. 

“You’re all healed up right? You should go see the gym now!” he says with sparkling eyes. “I’d show you there myself but there’s actually some guy standing in front of the gym right now. He looks sort of twitchy and impatient. I’ll give you the directions if you want!” 

You consider these descriptions and decide you do want directions. The boy seems incredibly excited about this and you cannot fathom why.

“Is that guy your friend?” he says, curiosity in his voice as he draws a quick map with the ease of long practice. “Well, if he is, maybe he’s waiting for you.”

You have no answer because you don’t know yet and don’t want to get your hopes up too soon. You thank the kid for the mini-map he gives you and go ahead to confirm the facts for yourself. 

It’s Barry. 

Of course it is. He stands outside the gym, rocking back and forth on his heels, looking around from time to time. There’s no one around but him and the faint sunlight follows his movements, unwilling to let him stray too far from its sight. When he catches sight of you he grins and waves with a force that nearly takes him off his feet, then comes running.

“Hey, hey Glen! You’re super late as always. I’ve already gotten my gym badge, you know?”

You do know. He had it when you’d met in Jubilife you’re sure and you tell him so. He nods vigorously. 

“Sharp as always, too!” he says and leads you to the gym door. It’s closed. You turn to look at him, somewhat confused.

“Yeah, the gym leader’s not here! He’s actually down in the mines so you’ll have to go down there and let him know you want a battle. It’s good training for your team, too! But uh — listen. You’re doing alright aren’t you, Glen?”

Ah. He was worried.

What brought this on?

“I just thought you know — I was thinking yesterday, while I got to leave all easy-like you had to — I mean,” his words run together and he tugs at his hair in frustration before sighing. He drags his shoe across the dirt in a heavy line and visibly tries to gather himself. “I know you’re okay now, I can tell, but it was hard on you wasn’t it?”

You’ve never lied to Barry in your life and you don’t intend to start now. Instead you squeeze his hands as tight as you can and wait for him to calm down. 

You know what this is about.

 _You didn’t leave me behind_ , you tell him. _I told you to go_.

Barry wrinkles his nose. 

“Well I know _that_. But I should’ve —” he says and you interrupt him before he goes further.

 _I told you to go_ , you say again patiently. _And here I am._

Barry sighs with his whole body and says, “I know. Yeah, you’re right. You’re always right behind me, like you promised. But you — you didn’t get hurt right?”

You try not to freeze but your throat clicks as you swallow, dry. He notices. He always does.

“You did get hurt,” says Barry, quieter than ever. The sunrise layers rose under his eyes and turns their irises a paler gold, turning them glassy. He puts his head on your shoulder for a moment. “Did you get them back?”

_Mm. I did._

“Good,” he says. “Good.”

He takes a moment to calm down and then pops up from your shoulder, hair flying every which way. “You read the note mom sent you right? I’m going to get stronger too! And when we go back —”

His eyes as he completes his sentence are something to behold. 

Red purrs at the back of your mind. 

You beam at him.

 _Yes. And I’ll catch up faster than you think_ , you tell him. _Don’t worry about me._

Barry scoffs and rubs his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. “I’m not worried at all! You’re just so slow I have to check up on you all the time and make sure you’re following!”

_But, it’s nice? Taking your time is fun._

“Argh, I don’t know how you stand it! I could never do that!”

You laugh. _I know. You’re fine the way you are. You should do whatever makes you happy. That way I’ll be happy too._

“Right?” he says. “You too! Don’t try to run too fast and get yourself hurt! I’ll keep an eye out for you so do what makes you happy too, okay?”

_Of course!_

“Now go get that gym badge!” he orders. “Go go go! If I’m still here by the time you get back I’ll fine you!”

You give him a hug, snap out a quick salute that makes him laugh and leave at once. 

The gym badge is waiting for you.

You can carve this path out on your own but you still need a different type of strength to do what you want to do.

With the sun rising at your back, you take your first step into darkness. 

It feels...familiar.

  * • ● • ☆ • ● • ●



The mines are a good training ground, just like Barry said. You take a rest leaning against some rocks while Berry takes his time in battles, green surging around him. Nightshade sleeps in his pokeball while Spruce tries his level best to take on some of the wild pokemon. As fast as he is, these are battles he’s not suited for and you soothe him gently as you try to explain why.

Having done extremely well in the battles before, this period of stillness brings down Spruce’s spirits and you don’t know how to make it better. Still, he puts on a brave face and tries his best. 

You find the gym leader at the far end of the mines. He introduces himself as Roark. Though he seems a little concerned about the dark circles under your eyes, he lets you know he’ll be ready at his gym anytime you want to battle.

Extremely odd emphasis on the word anytime. In fact, it sounds like he’s trying to suggest you come back tomorrow. Strange.

You let him know you’ll be by soon and make your way out of the mines in short order. Another trip to the pokecenter has your pokemon ready to go. Nightshade is so nervous that he’s overloaded himself and come out on the other side serene. Berry holds himself steady, having learned a new move and battled enough pokemon with it to be confident in his ability to deploy it. Spruce vibrates with emotion he doesn’t know what to call and can’t decide where to place. His tail lashes behind him.

You ask your pokemon if they’re sure they want to go through the gym. The answer is unanimous agreement. 

You go.

Inside the gym is a man up front who lets you look at the statues beside him before he speaks. 

“Howdy! How’s it going Champ-to-be? That’s what I said to a really impatient boy earlier, too.” 

You look at Barry’s name etched into the stone underneath the statues, his victory made solid. It must not have been that long ago if the man still remembers him but on the other hand, Barry does tend to turn heads and make an impact no matter what. 

The man gives you a few moments of quiet before he clears his throat, continuing.

“The gym leader is a user of rock-type pokemon. Well, listen. Rock-type pokemon really hate water, all right? They’re also weak to grass-type moves. Gee, they sure have weaknesses!”

You look at him wide-eyed. Is he...is he _allowed_ to tell you all this?

The man continues with no thought to your steadily growing worry.

“But don’t think it will be easy. You don’t get to be a gym leader without covering for weaknesses. Going after a rock-type pokemon with a fire-type pokemon won’t be easy, either.”

He’s still going. You fear for this man’s life but spare a moment to think about if he gave Barry this same advice. He’s still alive now isn’t he? Surely that means something. But usually, the consequences for giving out information are harsh, aren’t they? Maybe they want to catch him in the act...

“That’s all the advice I can give. Thanks for listening!” 

Finally, he stops, noticing the look on your face. 

Your silent and intense concern is vivid enough that it takes him aback for a moment but he recovers fast.

“Eh, don’t be nervous kid! You’ve made it all the way here already, right? As long as you believe in your pokemon and yourself, you’ll make it through with a bang!” 

You catch his sleeve, looking up at him.

“Uh?” His voice softens. “Listen kid, you’ll be alright —”

_And will you?_

“Huh?”

_You shouldn’t have told me all of that! What if you get in trouble?_

Your eyes are watering. The effects of sleep deprivation run in the back of your mind in a list with very tiny lettering, backlit with sirens and flashing red-warning signs. You sniffle.

 _What if you get fired? What if you get_ **_hurt_ ** _?_

“For — for telling you about the gym leader?”

You nod vigorously.

“Aw kid, I’m not gonna get _hurt_ for telling you about the gym leader.” He says, patting your head.

You don’t even register the contact, you’re too far gone.

_No? Are you sure?_

He shakes his head.

“Naw,” he says, looking more than a little worried. “It’s actually my job, you know? I talk to trainers that come in here and give them reminders so they can prep. Get them ready to take on the gym and all that, especially if they listen to what I say. It’s a pretty great gig though you have to learn a lot about pokemon to do it.”

Relief rushes through you in a tidal surge. Tears come with it and the man rummages through his pockets for a pack of napkins. He hands them to you and you blow your nose.

Embarrassment looms in the distant darkness of your mind, ready to open its jaws and bite you clean in half. You lost your composure in front of a _person_. By the lingering wonders of sleep deprivation you manage to calmly put away the napkins, thank the man and apologize in the same breath. A true miracle.

He squints at your face for a moment and gets up. “Well, that’s alright! Don’t sweat the small stuff, kid. And make sure to get some rest after this battle, alright?”

You nod and make your way forward. You catch him mumbling quietly under his breath, “Maybe I should’ve said to take a rest _before_ the battle? Kid looks like a stiff breeze’ll knock ‘em right over.”

You always look like that. It’s fine. You stoically ignore the fact that you’re wobbling on your feet a little. All is well.

There’s a gym trainer in the distance. You focus on him. Surprise, surprise, it’s the kid who gave you the gym directions.

“Hi!” he says, looking as inordinately energetic for this time of day. “I knew you’d make it! Let’s battle!”

Nightshade comes out of his pokeball, feeling right at home in the cave-like design of the gym and confidently confuses his pokemon for Berry to take down in the next few turns. 

“Aw, man.” he says, not even the slightest bit upset. “You’re really strong! I knew it!”

The next gym trainer goes pretty much the same way and you find yourself standing in front of Roark on the large battle ring, wondering how much time has passed.

“Huh,” says Roark. “That was quite fast. Looks like you’re ready for anything.”

Not that much time then. 

The battle begins.

You let Nightshade take the lead to try and confuse his pokemon but they’re unnaturally focused and dodge with determination.

Roark laughs. “I saw you use that strategy before. It’s pretty clever but I won’t be falling for it anytime soon!”

You blink. Well, okay then. 

You ask Nightshade to return and let Berry take the field. To Roark’s surprise, Berry manages to move first and land a critical hit on his pokemon that takes it out.

You have more than just one strategy. 

Berry dominates the rest of the battle, his moves strong and clean. Then Roark sends out his Cranidos on the last round, with a stubborn glimmer in his eye. You don’t pause for a break. You need this gym badge. You _need_ to be stronger. Someone is waiting for you.

A different pokeball than the one you were reaching for jumps into your hands.

Spruce enters the battlefield. 

“An electric type?” says Roark. “Strange choice.”

No. Not a strange choice. Not your choice at all.

You try to recall Spruce in a panic but Roark is faster than you. He snaps an order for a pursuit. His Cranidos crosses the battlefield, blurring with speed. There is a crack that wouldn’t sound loud to anyone but you. You can hear the sickening sound of Spruce’s ribs buckling under the pressure. Breaking. 

Red flashes.

He didn’t even do anything, you find yourself thinking. He just wanted to help.

You recall him numbly and Berry comes out of his pokeball. Your anger is a slow rising thing. Steady. A green so deep it turns black. A black so hungry it turns red.

Berry channels his rage into a razor leaf that leaves Roark’s Cranidos on its last legs. It stumbles to its feet where it should have fallen.

 _As stubborn as your trainer_ , you think. _Very well_.

It’s Roark’s turn now. Cranidos brings down Berry’s defense before rushing in with a headbutt. It leaves Berry stumbling and you use a potion to take care of the damage but his resistance is still dangerously low. Another good hit will take him out and to put Nightshade in a battle like this would only get him badly hurt. Even worse than Spruce.

 _Spruce_ , you think. **_Spruce_ **.

Berry hears you. He always does.

He steadies himself on your feet and glares.

_I won’t give up._

_Okay_ , you tell him. _One last hit. Take him down._

A razor leaf would be fast but that’s not what you pick. Green blooms on the battlefield before Cranidos can even move, before Roark can snap out another command. Berry’s quick claw glints in the low light. Your last gambit comes to fruition. 

Cranidos hits the ground with the thump.

The buzzer screams.

The battle is over. 

You don’t want to wait, every nerve in your body frayed and stretched to its limits but you’ve already lost your composure once today. You cannot afford to do it again. Berry leans his weight against your leg instead of going back to his pokeball to steady you as Roark comes over to you grinning.

“Great battle!” He says while jogging up to you, barely out of breath. “Here. You’ve earned this.”

He hands you a gleaming badge and it is cold in your hands.

“And this too! It’s the TM for Rock Smash. There are other moves that need gym authorization to use but this is the first one. Take good care of it!”

Your skin is prickling almost painfully and there is a ringing in your ears but you thank him anyways and walk slowly out of the gym, thanking the people who congratulate you on your victory. 

Then you get outside. 

Then you _run_.

It hurts you to do so of course but so what? That doesn’t matter right now.

The nurse at the pokecenter takes the pokeballs from your trembling hands and you watch unblinking as they are healed. When she hands them back to you with a smile you lower your head and leave.

You walk to the outskirts of town where no one can see you and sit down on the ground, curled up against the sunbaked walls. You are afraid to let your pokemon out. You are afraid of seeing Spruce. 

The sickening crack rings in your ears, playing on loop. 

This is much different fear than anything you are used to.

You watch the sun rise alone, in silence, with nothing to say. 

No one can hear you burning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if any of the dialogue sounds familiar it's because i lifted it directly from the game (which pretty much directly contradicts what i said about things in the main text being mine orz).
> 
> dialogue is one of my favorite things about the sinnoh games and i wanted to keep some of it the way it originally is so you'll probably be seeing more of that in future chapters.
> 
> i don't mark it any differently than regular dialogue though just because i don't like how that sort of formatting looks but i think it'll be pretty easy to spot despite that.


End file.
